


Moonwitch

by Tsaiko



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alien Planet, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Canonical Character Death, Fun with languages, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, IN SPACE!, M/M, Magic, Nudity, Public Nudity, Science Fiction, Werewolves, Witches, alphapack, weird sense of humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsaiko/pseuds/Tsaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale gets called in on his day off, wanders around the forest, and tackles a naked Stiles. It's a Thursday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonwitch

**Author's Note:**

> Science fiction AU where werewolves still exist and are, in fact, an alien species. I have tried to keep the Random Capitalization of Words for No Reason to a minimum, but I'm sure I wasn't entirely successful. I've also read through this like four times trying to fix all the typos and verb tense changes. I'm sure I'll spot another dozen once I've posted this.
> 
> Plotted and written mostly before Season 3 aired so everything that has been revealed in Season 3? Doesn't exist in this fic. Characters listed are for the entire fic series. Tags will be added as I figure out what the heck happens.

The call for a Special Forces alphapack had come in from a small city on the edge of a wilderness preserve sometime just after dawn on a Thursday. Derek hadn’t been at HQ when the call came in. He’d been in bed at his apartment, trying to recover from a previous mission that had gone wrong in a truly spectacular fashion. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week, but when the videoscreen beeped he got up out of bed.

“Hale.” Which was all the greeting Derek ever gave. He only activated sound, leaving the screen blank. The last thing he needed was someone from HQ to see his naked ass as he stumbled around in his dark bedroom, trying to find clothing.

“We have a situation of some sort just south of the western preserve.” Lydia was a red witch, a very powerful red witch, that could make even the toughest alphas jump when she gave the order. Derek was simultaneously impressed and annoyed by her ability even as he pulled on pants and mentally rearranged his planned schedule for his day off. “They’re calling for an alphapack.”

“I’m on leave,” Derek reminded her. If they were calling in alphas on leave, it had to be bad. He found a shirt, sniffed it, and decided that it wasn’t too bad. Laundry hadn’t been high on his list of things to do for the last week.

“I know.” Derek snorted at the lack of apologies from Lydia. Typical when she was determined to get her way. “We’ve already got one alphapack deployed dealing with a few rogue omegas, three on guard rotation at the detention centers since there was a full moon last night, and two others in districts too far to get here in a reasonable amount of time. We’re pulling in the second string now.”

A lack of apologies and insults? Must be big. “What’s going on?” Derek pulled on a pair of socks. His wallet and keys went into his pocket.

“There’s a missing established pack. Nine werewolves. The local law enforcement found the alpha in pieces in the woods. They’re refusing to go back out to look for the rest of the pack and we need to find out what happened.”

“Wait. They found the _alpha_ in pieces and eight missing betas?” Omegas were often found torn to pieces if they turned vicious and strayed into an established family pack’s territory. Occasionally, it happened to betas if for some reason their alpha went crazy on them. Usually by the time the alpha went after the second beta, the others in the pack banded together to take the alpha out. Sometimes they even succeeded.

But an entire pack? Even the alphapack would have problems taking down a pack even with weapons and back-up. It just didn’t happen.

“There’s already rumors spreading about this. Law enforcement wants to keep in low key, but...” Lydia signed over the line. She sounded tired and Derek wondered if they’d pulled her in before her shift to coordinate this. “An alpha is dead and its presumed the rest of the pack is too. We need you out there yesterday to figure out what is going on.”

His day off could wait. Derek pushed his feet into shoes and began to do up the laces. “I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

***

The alphapack and their support arrived mid-morning in two vans. The leader of the local law enforcement - a completely normal human by the smell of it - greeted them as they exited the vans. “Thank you for coming. I’m Steward Greenberg.“

“Sasha Evans.” Derek had to bite down on the growl. Sasha had been designated leader for this mission, and that meant she took on the alpha role within the pack. That didn’t mean any of the other alphas liked it. It was always like this working in the alphapack, and Derek had long ago learned to sit on the instinct to dominate when he wasn’t mission lead.

Instead he watched as Sasha shook the steward’s hand. Derek was Sasha’s second-in-command. Which basically meant he got to stand around and be useless while Sasha found out from the locals what was going on. Steward Greenberg was about Derek’s age, maybe even slightly younger. He had dirty blond hair, a uniform which seemed half a size too big, and sharp green eyes. Sasha’s next words mirrored his thoughts.

“We don’t often see stewards so young. You must be proud.” Derek recognized the line for what it was. A bit of small talk and a compliment before getting down to business. The alphas were encouraged to do a few sentences of small talk with humans. Their supervisors said it helped them relate to werewolves.

Derek didn’t do small talk.

“Thank you, alpha.” When the steward smiled, his eyes crinkled around the corners. “Be glad this didn’t happen a few years ago. You’d be dealing with Finstock and then everything would be a disaster.”

The other three alphas in the alphapack had started unloading gear, getting everything ready to go. There was support personnel who could handle such a task, but the alphas always felt better if they could personally inspect the equipment. Some people called it paranoia. Derek called it being thorough.

“What can you tell us about what’s going on here, Steward Greenberg?”

Derek listened as Greenberg recited the facts. Local law enforcement had found the body just around sunrise after multiple reports of weird howling in the woods last night. The alpha was Roger Lahey, a resident werewolf with an established pack who was the swim coach for the local high school. Most of his pack were former members of the swim team, with the exception of his son Isaac.

“The report said the alpha had been found in pieces?” Sasha added just enough disbelief in her voice to give Greenberg an out should he need it. It wouldn’t be the first time Special Forces got something wrong.

“That would be correct, alpha. And I don’t mean pieces as in some psychopath anti-werewolf murderer cut him in half, although that would be bad enough. I mean he was literally torn into pieces. We found at least six chunks - pardon the terminology - before we decided this was too big for us.” Steward Greenberg ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up at strange angles “We tried not to contaminate the scene, but two of my deputies puked up their guts up before we could get out of there.”

“Fuck.” Sasha said the word like it was only response possible. “We may have a rogue witch on our hands. If there’s not a witch nearby powerful enough to do a sweep, we can have out here in about...”

Greenberg held up a hand, forestalling any more word. “Already done. It’s not magic.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“If Deaton says it’s not magic, then it’s not magic,” Greenberg replied. “Alan is the best witch we have around here. Probably better than a lot of witches you have in the provincial capital.”

There was a pause and Derek’s head snapped up. There was a slight change in the steward’s scent. “Alpha Evans, just between you and me, Alpha Lahey was not always on the up and up. There were rumors that his pack liked to run hunts, but not for just deer. We could never prove anything though the moon knows, we tried. Never enough evidence. It wouldn’t surprise me if he decided to hunt the wrong person.”

“I appreciate the information,” Sasha said. “My second and I will keep it quiet. Though not even an alphapack can take out a established pack like you’re describing. It may be nothing more than a beta challenging the alpha in the traditional manner and the rest of the pack scattering instead of following the new alpha. There’s no reason to speculate before we have facts.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I tried to keep this as quiet as possible, but the werewolves on my force are spooked. Heck, all the werewolves in town are spooked. Talk has already started and I wouldn’t be surprised if people in the capital have already heard the rumors.” Greenberg swallowed hard. “They’re saying we have a moonwitch that can turn.”

Derek went very still. “There hasn’t been a documented moonwitch in over a 150 years.” Both Sasha and the steward turned to look at him. Derek thought about just glaring back, but decided to elaborate. People skills had been one of his “needs to improve” areas on his yearly evaluation. “The Franklin pack had the last moonwitch just before it merged with the Hale pack.”

“Any other insights?” Sasha asked sweetly. It was obvious she thought the moonwitch story was just that: a story. Derek bared his teeth in a parody of a smile.

“No.”

“I doubt its a moonwitch, Steward Greenberg.” Sasha turned her back on Derek. He knew his eyes flashed red before he once again got control of his instincts. “They were more myth than reality even when they were common. We’ll take it from here.”

That was as good a dismissal as any. Derek stalked back over to the vans, grabbing his armor to start getting ready. Andrews took one look at his face and whistled. “Evans being her usual charming self?”

“Since when is she not charming,?” Derek replied. The armored vest was a specially designed composite material. It could stop a bullet, wolfsbane or not, and significantly reduce the damage done by an alpha’s claws. It was heavy and rigid, and it helped tremendously when they were human. It totally useless if they needed to shift to their alpha forms, and tended to get tangled when that happened. Derek was not exactly thrilled with wearing it, but understood the necessity. 

“No armor for you?” Derek asked as he put on the knee and elbow pads. They were less effective than the vest, but they were also lighter and more flexible. It was a trade-off but at least the armor provided some protection to vulnerable joints. “Playing hound dog today.”

Andrews grimaced. The hound dog comment was an old joke that never seemed to die among the alphapacks. “Yes, I’m going to be in alpha form.” Another trade-off. Being in alpha form let one of their pack move faster, but they had less armor. “I’d feel better if I had a gun.”

“You have teeth and claws. They are more reliable anyway,” Derek replied. He holstered his sidearm and pulled out his laser rifle. He checked the site, the charge in the energy pack, the overcharge mechanism, and the safety. “Makes the hunt more enjoyable too.”

“Easy for you to say. You were born a werewolf.” Andrews had been illegally bitten nearly eight years ago, and had managed to kill the alpha who did it only a few days afterwards. Even now he was slightly uncomfortable with the wolf side of himself. “I still prefer a gun in my hands, rather than close combat.”

“Your loss.”

While he was speaking, the rest of the alphapack had circled around them. Lyall handed him a headset and Derek put it on before touching the button. There was a moment of soft static. Then a male voice came over the line. “This is Danny Mahealani on Support. Headset two, report.”

“This is Derek Hale on headset two,” Derek replied. Danny went through diagnostics, keeping up a running commentary up as he did. Derek fiddled with the volume slightly, trying to find a happy medium between not too loud and loud enough. He wasn’t entirely successful.

“Going to radio silence now. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“We’re ready to go people,” Sasha said as she joined up with the rest of them. Unlike the others, she’d put her armor on before she’d even left the van. One of the drawbacks of being mission lead. “Andrews, go ahead and shift. I’ve got point. Hale, stick with Andrews. Lyall, Conor, I want you bringing up the rear,”

Andrews stripped right there, counting on the rest of his pack to keep him safe while he was vulnerable. He folded his clothes and put them in the back of the van. Then he changed. Derek listened to the crack and pop of shifting bones, felt the spike of _pain/pleasure/relief_ in Andrews’ scent, and watched the fur sprout on his body.

Less than a minute later, a huge wolf stood between them. His fur was red-brown and white like that most of the wolves from Third World had. Andrews’s fur was also longer than most First World werewolves, with a distinct ruff around his neck. He shook himself once as if to settle in his skin and then looked to Sasha.

“We’ll start where they found the first body and track from there.” She pointed northwest. “The coordinates Steward Greenberg gave us are straight that way. Keep your eyes, ears, and noses open. We’re still missing eight betas.”

The group broke into a ground eating lope through the woods. Andrews was marginally faster than the rest of them on four legs with no armor and no weapons to weigh him down. He’d pull ahead, stop, wait for them to catch up, and then move off again.

On most missions, the person in alpha wolf form would break off to the side, covering a larger amount of territory before circling back. Since they already knew where they were heading, Andrews kept to a more straight line. Derek did his best to keep up with the other wolf while trying not to seem to lead the pack. He and Sasha already didn’t get along. The last thing he needed was to be seen as challenging her for leadership on the mission.

The forest was old growth that had never been logged with towering trees and a dense canopy above. They were too far north and inland for the truly massive redwoods that inhabited the coastlines, but the area had an impressive mix of fir, pine, ash, and black oak. The trees filtered the morning sunlight. The forest floor was a mix of grass, wild flowers, dry pine needles, and the occasional cluster of ferns in the wetter hollows. The scent of evergreens wafted upwards with each step. The air itself was dry and dusty.

It was only twenty minutes later when they found the first beta, still on the way to where alpha Lahey had been found. Andrews gave an aborted yelp that startled a couple of birds from their perch. Derek was the second one there and found Andrews circling a body warily, occasionally padding into a stream to do so. The others put on a burst of speed to get there seconds later.

“Moon preserve us,” Lyall said under his breath. The beta’s throat had been torn out, her brown eyes staring blankly up at the sky while resting half in a stream and half on a mass of exposed granite. She was naked, meaning she’d probably been killed while shifted and had reverted back to human form once the moon set. One of her legs was missing. Blood ran from her lips.

The smell of death was overpowering even in human form. Derek breathed heavily through his mouth. She had to have been dead for hours, and the heat was not helping with the smell. A small breeze kicked up, disturbing several flies.

“How many betas in the in the Lahey pack again?” Connor asked. He looked like he wanted to be sick, and was holding on by sheer force of will.

“Eight,” Sasha said faintly. This was not just a beta challenging an alpha. This was something else. “Now we know at least two of the pack are dead. Lyall report the coordinates for the body. Tell support to stay with the vans. I don’t want anyone else out here running into trouble.”

“On it, alpha.” Lyall was already murmuring into his head piece. He flipped the small screen over his eye and took a series of picture of the body to transmit to Danny at the vans. Derek scanned the area and kept close to Andrews. The wolf was already sniffing, trying to see if he could pick up any scent, or find any evidence of just what had caused this.

“We should look to see if we can find anything else.” As soon as Derek said the words, he knew they were the wrong thing to say. That had not been phrased as a suggestion. Sasha gave him a hard look, and Derek forced himself to tilt his head to the side in submission. He was not in charge. Maybe if he said it in his head enough times he would actually remember it.

“Connor, stay with me. Derek, Andrews, spread out. Look for anything out of the ordinary. Keep within sight distance of Lyall and do _not_ split up. Shout if you find anything.”

Derek followed Andrews downstream, where the canopy of big-leaf maples thinned slightly. Sedges, rushes, and clusters of yellow and red monkey flowers grew more thickly here, competing for the sunlight that poured down. Andrews was scenting the air and Derek followed suite. Moist air tended to hold scents longer than dry air. The wind was blowing today though, rippling through the trees and rustling the leave. That tended to disperse scent.

It seemed the wind was winning. Derek could smell the water from the stream, baked earth, wet mud, and the faint trace of a deer that had come to drink earlier. If he really concentrated, Derek could pick out the barest trace of the deceased beta. He couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary though. He turned sharply to head back, sighing softly in frustration, when something caught his eye.

In a section where the stream bent, a small bar of loose sand had built up. Smack dab in the middle of the sand were two large wolf prints. Very large wolf prints.

“Andrews,” Derek called even as he knelt beside the prints. Each paw print was as large as his hand with the fingers spread out. The alpha wolf padded over. “Can you pick up any scent?” Behind him, Derek could hear Connor and Sasha moving through the forest, drawn to sound of his voice.

“What did you find?” Sasha asked. Andrews was standing in the stream itself to avoid stepping into the sand and destroying the prints. He snorted and whined. No scent then.

“Paw prints.” Derek pointed towards them. “A normal alpha wolf’s prints are maybe the size of my palm. Those are about three times as big.”

“Prints often look bigger in wet soil,” Sasha said. Derek thought the implication that they were not dealing with a normal wolf would be obvious. He was wrong. “It probably comes from the alpha that was killed. Connor take a picture, but I don’t see any reason to send it to support yet. ”

“Alpha,” Connor said as he took the picture. He wouldn’t meet Derek’s eyes, which meant he knew the prints weren’t large just because of the wet soil. Connon also wouldn’t call Sasha out on it. She was team lead. Derek gritted his teeth, but knew there was nothing he could do. Members of any pack, _especially_ an alphapack, all had their roles to play and his was not to challenge the team lead.

That usually didn’t stop Derek. Then again, he usually wasn’t in the middle of a forest with something that left pawprints three times the size of an alpha wolf and had killed off a pack on its own.

After they left the body of the beta behind, the pack stuck closer together. No one was saying anything about the pawprints, but everyone was thinking it. Something was out here. They came across the body of the alpha just where Steward Greenberg said it was less than five minutes later.

“No wonder the werewolves freaked,” Sasha said. Bits of grey-brown fur and bright red flesh were strewn across a flower dotted meadow. Silently, the alphapack spread out to see what they could find. Derek found the ribcage by accident, almost putting his foot into it. Lyall yelped when he stepped on a hand. Connor called out that he’d found a foot. Sasha let them know she’d found the head. What they could find of the deceased alpha was naked and human, just like the beta. He’d been killed while in his wolf form as well.

Lyall went from piece to piece taking photographs and sending them to suppport. He also sent the coordinates as well. None of the alphas left each others sight as they continued their search. Andrews paced close enough to Derek that he could have dropped his hand into the wolf’s fur if he had wanted to. He didn’t, but he could have. Connor had stepped on his heels more than once. Derek didn’t even snarl. Sasha led them east, and they slowly went up in elevation.

It was Andrews that found the second beta, face down in a small gully. His belly had been ripped out by claws, and his face similarly mangled. Lyall called the new coordinates in. All were killed while in wolf form, which meant that they had been running as a pack when they were taken down. It almost looked like a hunt. Which made Derek wonder what exactly, they were hunting.

Two betas and the alpha down. Six more to go. With any luck, hopefully one of the betas had made it.

They found another beta just after noon, his back broken, eyes glassy, and throat torn out. Support had asked four times if they should start collecting the bodies - start looking for trace evidence - and Sasha had told them four times to stay with the damn vans. If an entire stable pack of werewolves didn’t have a chance against whatever was out here, what did a bunch of humans and a few omega guards have?

Personally, if hadn’t already thought it before from his interactions with Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore, Derek would have thought support was crazy. Who in their right mind, upon seeing pictures of an alpha in pieces, wanted to come take a look? Derek would not have been ashamed to just stay at the fucking vans for the entirety of the mission.

The day grew warmer still as noon turned into early afternoon. A couple of squirrels chattered overhead confident that the werewolves below couldn’t get to them before they could escape. The scent of dust and evergreen intensified. Derek could feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine and running down the side of his face.

Derek was the one who smelled the fourth beta first: a sharp, bright scent that spoke of _life_ in a forest full of death. He found himself heading towards the scent before he even made a conscious decision to do so. Sasha snapped at him, a split second before she smelled it too. Then she was moving even faster than Derek with the rest of the alphapack at her heels.

The trees fell away like curtains on a stage, framing a place where a jut of granite broke through the dry, red dirt. Sitting on the granite outcrop was the beta. His hair was dark and curly, there were shadows under his eyes, and he was rubbing his wrist in what was obviously a nervous gesture. He was also naked.

The beta jerked his head up as they got closer, either smell or sound alerting him to their presence. His heartbeat stuttered and then went up a notch. Andrews dodged left to cut off the most obvious escape route. Lyall and Connor moved to the right. Derek hesitated, but decided to back up Sasha.

“Hands up,” Sasha said. “Don’t move.” Derek flipped the power charger on his laser rifle, and the gun emitted the distinctive smell of electricity. He could feel the hum of power transmitted through the metal and against his hands. The beta slowly raised his hands up. They were empty.

Sasha got closer, then quickly put the beta on the ground. He didn’t resist. In fact he turned his head to one side, baring his throat in submission as Sasha put arm cuffs laced with wolfsbane on him. He laid silently at her feet. “What’s your name?”

The beta had to clear his throat twice before he could respond. “Isaac Lahey.”

“Lahey?” Derek said. He remembered a bit of information that Steward Greenberg had said when explaining the situation to Sasha. “Your father is the alpha.”

“My alpha is dead,” Isaac replied. He sucked in a breath, and Derek could smell the salty-wet of tears. Isaac’s eyes flashed blue before he closed them. “My father is dead.”

“Are there any more of you pack alive?” Sasha asked. Derek was more than happy to turn this conversation over to her. He hadn’t spoken more than six words to the beta... to the _omega_ , and had him crying. This is why he didn’t do an actual pack.

“No.” Isaac made a small sound, not quite a whimper. Sasha reached down and touched Isaac’s cheek, instinctively offering comfort. When he spoke again, Isaac’s voice was a little bit steadier. “I’m the only one alive.”

“Is my pack in danger?” Sasha demanded. Alpha instinct drove her to protect the pack at all costs, even if none of the alphas were her betas. “We’ll take you in and you can tell us what happened, but I need to know if I can get my pack out of the woods in one piece.”

Isaac took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think he can hurt anyone now, but I don’t know what will set him off.”

“He?” Isaac immediately averted his eyes, his lips thinning. Sasha growled, reached down, grasped Isaac by the back of the neck, and shook the omega slightly. Nothing.

It was probably for the best. They would need to record Isaac’s statement in order for it to be official anyway. Anything said before that recording was useless. Most werewolves preferred to keep quiet until they were at the station and on record because of it.

“Everyone stand down,” Sasha said as she got back to her feet. “Drink. Rest. This has gone on longer than any of us imagined it would.”

The alphapack relaxed, alert, but no longer hypervigilant like before. Sasha and Lyall were debating whether to have some of the support personnel come out to bring Isaac clothes or if it was actually safe to have them collect the bodies. Maybe debate was too strong a word. Sasha was more bouncing ideas off of Lyall while Lyall went through the pros and cons of each suggestion. Connor was lazily watching them from his seat on the granite outcrop. Andrews moved back towards the group, panting heavily.

Connor broke into one of his hydration packs first. That made derek realize just how thirty he was as well. Derek dropped down to a crouch, shifting his fingers to claws in order to open one of his own packs up. Then he offered it to Andrews. The alpha wolf drank gratefully.

Once Andrews was done, the wolf moved to lay down beside Isaac. Derek sat on the ground and leaned back against the exposed granite. He opened another one of his hydration packs and drank. The water was tepid and tasted of plastic. Still it was water.

Suddenly, there was another heartbeat. Derek’s head whipped around so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. At the very edge of the clearing, slightly downhill and downwind, stood another naked man. He couldn’t make out much at this distance: just a brief impression of pale skin, lean and lanky, and closely cropped hair. Maybe early twenties.

Whomever he was, it was obvious that he hadn’t expected to find the alphapack there. Derek could see his muscles tensing to run. None of the other alphas noticed.

If he were going by the book, he would have shouted to let the others know and then waited for Sasha’s orders. That would be the proper thing to do with respect to pack order. It would also give the man a chance to run and with him downwind, there was no way to tell if he was a werewolf. A smart werewolf with a head start could outrun a group of alphas tired from having tracked through the woods all day. So Derek made a command decision.

He got to his feet and raced towards the intruder.

There was a shout behind and a spike of fear from Isaac. The others were scrambling - Derek could hear them behind him - but none of them seemed to be heading in his direction. Derek wondered about that, but didn’t dare look behind him. Instead he kept his eyes on the target in front of him.

The man ran.

When Derek got to where the man was standing, he got his first whiff of the man’s scent. Salt and sweat. The sharp, metallic tang of fear, softened slightly by exhaustion. The bitter sweet and spicy scent that was unique to each person with none of the overlay of fur and cold that clung to werewolves. The person in front of him was pure human.

As Derek ran, he breathed the human’s scent in deeply, marking it to memory so he could track him anywhere. Wolves were not the best of trackers, but they could do it when their prey was near. And Derek’s prey was very near. He could track the man solely by sight, but having scent to fall back on never hurt.

Derek slowed slightly, looking for an opportunity. Humans were fragile. They didn’t heal like werewolves could, couldn’t take the kind of damage and live. He knew he’d have to be careful when taking one down at a full run.

As far as his wolf was concerned though, the human had run and was therefore prey. His wolf wanted him to just pounce. To bring down the human as soon as possible. To feel him struggle beneath him. To sink his teeth into him and hold him down as Derek tasted his blood and felt his heartbeat.

Luckily, Derek was good at quelling his instincts. The man slipped on loose pine needles going down the hill, his arms pinwheeling wildly in an attempt to keep his balance and his heart leaping in alarm. It was just the opportunity Derek was looking forward. He surged forward, his wolf howling in triumph.

He hit the other man with his shoulder, wrapped an arm around him, and rolled. His body armor blocked most of the damage. Still dirt, small rocks, and a bits of sticks scraped against his back. Better him than the human though. The human’s breath left him in a rush when they hit.

For his consideration, Derek got an elbow in the face. The pain was a bright, sharp burst in his head. All Derek could smell was copper, and all he could taste was blood. His nose was probably broken, and the itching feeling of it healing was irritating.

As soon as they came to a stop, Derek pinned the human beneath him. He growled low in the human’s ear, and was mollified somewhat at the sudden spike of fear. Good. Maybe next time the human would think twice about elbowing a werewolf on the hunt.

“If you fight, I will hurt you,” Derek snarled. He coughed once trying to clear blood from the back of his throat. Derek held the human’s wrists in one hand, and kept his knee in the small of his back. “What is your name?”

The strings of words that came of out of the human’s mouth were completely foreign. Derek knew the common phrases most of the major werewolf planetary languages: Bleiz, Oltas, Ulippana, Varkha, Makoyi, Waso, and Bacha. He was actually fluent in both Ulv and Vargr, the two most common tongues spoken on the first world. There were dozens of dialects and few minor tongues, that Derek could recognize even if he didn’t speak them. This didn’t sound like any of them.

It was just another mystery in a day full of mysteries. Derek was tired, hungry, hot, thirsty,and sick of smelling death. His face was sticky with blood and his nose hurt. Right now, Derek was seriously reconsidering his life choices.

“Up,” Derek snarled once he’d secured the human’s hands behind his back. His knee throbbed a bit when he put his weight on it, but the pain was already fading. The human hesitated. He flicked the safety back on his gun - because really what was a completely naked human with his hands tied going to do to a fully armed and clothed werewolf ?- and forced the off-worlder to his feet.

“Let us put down our weapons and all make peace together.”

That... that was Ulv. Horribly accented Ulv - all the emphasis on the wrong syllables and the pronunciation was awful- but it was recognizably Ulv. It sounded like something that came from one of those moon-cursed, unintelligible phrase books that got more things wrong than right.

“I’m not going to shoot you,” Derek growled. That didn’t seem to work, so he tried a simpler sentence. “No weapons.” He holstered his gun and the human’s heart rate dropped a bit.

Derek took a moment to look over the human. He had mostly scrapes and bruises, small cuts that were already scabbing over. He also favored his left leg a bit. Otherwise, the human he looked fine. Wiping the dried blood from his nose, Derek wished he could say the same.

“Forward,” Derek said giving him a nudge. The human stumbled forward in the direction Derek pushed him.

Sasha was waiting for him at the granite outcrop, her eyes blazing red. Derek could smell her rage as he got closed, could hear the infrasonic growl in her throat and the ratcheting up of her heart. She was leaning forward, her hand clenched into fists. The human Derek had captured pressed back against him. Obviously, he saw Derek as the lesser of two evils. “What do you think you are doing, Hale?”

“I saw him run. No one else should be out here,” Derek ground out. “I thought you would be right behind me.”

“I am not risking the pack because you don’t like the fact that you are not mission lead,” Sasha growled. “I told them to stay. If you had gotten hurt, the only person who would have been to blame was you.”

“What was I supposed to do? Yell and hope you understood what was going on?”

“Yes!” Sasha began circling to the left, and Derek found himself doing the same. Tracking her movements. “I depend on my pack to inform me when something is going on so _I_ can make the decisions on what to do and how to keep everyone safe.”

“There was no way to know he wasn’t a werewolf. He could have been gone by then,” Derek yelled. “You were just going to leave one of your pack to die just because you have to be in control?”

“You haven’t been part of this pack since you were assigned to it. I am in charge. You don’t get to make decisions like that while I’m mission alpha,” Sasha snarled back. Then she roared, flashing huge canines.

Derek met her roar of challenge with one of his own. Both of them bared their fangs. The human had had enough sense to stumble away during their argument. Lyall caught him, putting himself between the two circling alphas and the more vulnerable human. Isaac was on the ground, eyes closed and whining.

It was Andrews who broke the tension. He howled, long and loud, in his wolf form. Sasha and Derek both froze, neither one looking away.

Then Derek dropped his eyes. “My apologies, alpha.” Speaking the words felt like chewing glass. He didn’t feel in the wrong, but something needed to give before they got into a fight in the middle of nowhere with a pack killer on the loose. “I should have let you know what was going on before running off.”

Sasha took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. Slowly the tension leaked from her stance. “You’re going back to town.”

“What?” Derek bit back the growl that wanted to erupt from him.

“I need someone to escort Lahey and...” Sasha hesitated before just gesturing towards the human. “... him into town so we can get their statements, get them booked, and try to figure out what is going on. Congratulations, you’ve just volunteered yourself.”

“So I’m being removed from the field team?”

“You are being ordered by your alpha to escort potential suspects back to the local authorities.” Sasha smiled, but it was more a baring of teeth. “Contact support and see what the closest location they could do a pick-up would be.”

Derek nodded once. Then he touched the button on his headset. “Support, this is Hale. I need to know what the closest place a small transport can pick me up is. I’m transmitting my current coordinates now.”

“Alpha, this is Danny. You’re under some heavy tree cover. I’ll do a search, but it might take a little while to find a good place. How many to pick-up?”

“Three. Myself and two prisoners.”

If Danny seemed at all surprised by the fact they now had two prisoners when before all they’d been reporting in was bodies, Derek couldn’t hear it in his voice. “Do you need extra security sent with you, or just a pilot?”

Good question. Derek looked over to where Isaac and the human were sitting. Isaac didn’t seem much of a threat, but that could change. Then again, he was now an Omega. In a fight with an Alpha, an Omega was going to lose every time. Especially one that was already in cuffs.

The human was probably even less of a threat. He was naked, didn’t seem to speak the language, and currently had his hands tied behind his back. He didn’t carry himself like a fighter and hadn’t proved much of one when Derek had tackled him. “I don’t think extra security will be necessary. Just send a pilot and transportation.”

“On it, Alpha. I’ve located two good pick-up spots near you. Both are a bit of a hike. One is south and east of you, uphill, and looks rocky in the satellite imagery. The other is farther away almost due west, but it will be downhill, not as steep, and not as rough. Which would you prefer?”

“We’ll take the downhill site. Send me coordinates.” Neither Isaac nor the human had shoes. Hell, they didn’t even have pants right now. As a werewolf, Isaac might be fine walking on tough terrain though it wouldn’t be ideal. The human wouldn’t be able to heal.

“The coordinates are sent. With the tree cover, you’ll lose satellite connection for most of the walk. The internal tracking on your headset will compensate some. You’re going to wind up a little off from your target.” The last was said with a note of apology.

“Understood,” Derek growled. He turned back towards the alphapack. The others were already packing up, getting ready to find the bodies of the other betas. He walked up to Sasha. “I have a pick-up site. I’ll send you any information we get from Lahey and the human when they give their statements.”

“Hopefully, we won’t be in the field that long,” Sasha said. “Start on the paperwork while you are there.”

Derek gritted his teeth. He hated paperwork. Then again, he was being sent back to town with a prisoners as punishment. “I hope you can wrap this up swiftly.”

_So you can do your own damn paperwork._

At her signal, the other alphas gathered close and the pack moved off with Andrews in the lead. Isaac watched them go. The human, on the other hand, watched Derek as he approached. Derek wondered briefly what he was thinking. His heartbeat was fairly even, but that only told him so much.

“Up,” Derek said to both the prisoners. Isaac got to his feet, graceful despite his hands being shackled. The human hesitated long enough that Derek reached down, put a hand on his elbow, and made him get to his feet. Even then he stumbled.

“Go? Walk? Where go?” the human asked in his broken Ulv. Then he turned to Isaac. “Where go?”

Isaac shifted back and forth, uneasy at the question.. “Follow,” he said, indicating Derek.

“Go where?” the human asked again. He dug his heels in, making Derek practically drag him along. He stumbled twice before decided that walking was the best option. “Where? Walk where?”

It was like listening to a persistent three year old. “Just walk, and be quiet.”

Of course, the human either didn’t understand the word quiet or decided to ignore him.

This was going to be a long walk.


End file.
